In cartooning we have a term called ‘slanting’ where we create work specific to a magazine or publication’s theme, such as cuisine, wine, golf, etc. We develop a series of concepts specific to that editorial need. Exactly what I should have thought of prior to the meeting.

Another key factor is shape. I draw my cartoons in seven inch square boxes with text beneath. When I first started working as a cartoonist, I’d read that this was the preferred format for newspapers, so that’s what I did and never had any reason to change. In many cases, it works well for art licensing, particularly for greeting cards, t-shirts and anything where a rectangular presentation fits. There are a number of manufacturers I would love to partner up with, but I know the current format I use won’t work. Should I have the good fortune to sit down and meet with those companies, I would make those alterations, and perhaps create a mock-up showing how my work would look on their products. A case in point is my latest licensing partner Hi-Look who manufacturers lens cleaning cloths for eyeglasses, iPads, iPhones – you name it. The format had to be exactly square which required some reworking. And so I did.

Humor is a great fit for many manufacturers who license art for their products. But having a great humorous illustration may not be enough. Remember to present material topically appropriate to the manufacturers needs, and make sure that the formatting will work in an attractive and enhancing way.

Now, here’s what happened in New York City. Admittedly, I’m not a fashion mogul. As a matter of fact, I’m not sure I even know what one is. But, being aware of that, and knowing I would be going to a place where such things are noticed, I thought I might better show up wearing something other than my typical cargo pants and hiking shoes.

My son-in-law Nik is the peripheral opposite of me in terms of fashion. He knows his stuff, so I asked him to give me some pointers, to which he graciously offered to accompany me on a trip to Macy’s to correct my fashion deficiencies. And so we went. After trying on a dozen or so fancy-schmancy pairs of jeans, then a like number of button-down shirts, sport coats, and shoes with a squarishly pointy end, very expensive but surpizingly thin socks, and a belt that looks just like the belt I always wear, but for only three times the cost, I was ready.

The evening prior I made the 5 hour drive to Albany to spend an evening with my parents. The next morning I woke up well before sunrise, showered, shaved, and started getting dressed into my new, fashion-savvy clothes. I caught the early train to New York City and arrived without incident. As it turns out, Penn Station is a pretty massive place. By the time I found my way through a sea of people to the 7th Avenue exit, my feet, jammed into their high-fashion squarishly-pointy shoes, were painfully blistered.

It was at this moment I reflected on what a bad idea it was to buy expensive, squarishly-pointy shoes, not breaking them in, and having to walk over a mile through the busy streets of Manhattan to my very important appointment.

Within only a few blocks I was visibly, painfully limping, trying to scrunch my toes into different positions to alleviate the friction which was sanding the skin off of the outsides of me feet and heels. At long last, I arrived at the Madison Avenue address. Three and a half hours early. And it was very cold. But fashion didn’t allow for a jacket. Time for more reflection.

Outside the building were a number of circular benches, one of which I quickly planted my butt upon. The relief to my feet was wonderful. So now I have lots of time to kill. In the cold. I took the opportunity to commence shivering. As I looked around I noticed a great deal of security, both within and outside of the building. My attention focused most specifically on the bomb-detection officer and dog which seemed to, in turn, be focusing on me. I suppose my look of obvious discomfort didn’t help their perception of why I might be sitting there.

The hours passed while I chattered away until the appointed time finally came. I limped into the building and approached the security desk to check in and get my badge. Into the elevator I went and up to the floor to the offices where the meeting was to be held. I was still about a half-hour early, so I stood in the hallway looking awkward, fidgeting in an attempt to appear as though I belonged there. Here’s where the military did me a disservice. For all of my 20 year Navy career it was mandated that you show up to your appointed station or watch 15 minutes in advance. In most circumstances, this is good advice. It wasn’t on this day. 15 minutes to the appointed time I energetically limped straight through the door – into the middle of someone else’s very important meeting. Yet more awkwardness. I smiled embarassingly, apologized profusely, and backward limped out of the room to resume my awkward place back in the hall, where sweat began to bead on my forehead. After a short time, the gracious people whose meeting I intruded on walked by with kind smiles – the kind you give someone who is on their way to a root canal. I entered the room, and the meeting proceeded as I’d described above. Upon its conclusion, I limped back to the elevator and into the lobby. I raised the lapels of my sport coat to ready myself for the cold, limp-hindered walk back to the rail station when I noticed all the umbrellas. Umbrellas are a key indicator of rain. And so it was. So I finished my day with a higher quality level of shivering, wet to the core, limping like Captain Ahab on a train where I came away with one very significant, non-pain related lesson: bring artowrk that suits the occasion and the prospective client. And wear hiking shoes next time for Pete’s sake.

The line of “Heavenly Humor” figurines produced by Westland Giftware featuring my “Spectickles” characters.

The often perceived path for aspiring cartoonists was to create a clever comic strip, send it to the major syndicates, wait for that life-changing phone call, then clear out the spare bed-room so you can stuff the avalanche of incoming cash there till you can close on your Scottish castle on the sea. The cartoonists of old operated in a much different world than the one we have today, and our approaches must reflect that.

In our internet-driven world of instant communication, unlimited access, and multi-tasking mania, the old syndicate models are out-dated, and the types of financial rewards in that arena are forever altered downward. We can refuse to recognise this change and spend our remaining days lamenting the stomping down of our dreams, much like the proverbial buggy-whip maker watching the Model-Ts rolling off the assembly line, or we can take stock of the new dynamics, and shift our focus to make it work for us. We have to re-write the cartoonist career path and support the new generation of artists rather than hold this information close to the chest in fear of letting loose a secret that others might benefit from. The more we work in a unified manner, the more we educate eachother as a cohesive group, the more we all benefit from better rates of pay, better terms on rights, and a general appreciation for the fact that what we do is unique, highly skilled, and worthy of compensation commensurate with the aforementioned facts.

A number greeting cards by one of the companies carrying the “Spectickles” line.

While licensing isn’t for everyone, it has the potential to be a substantial part of a cartoonist’s/humorous illustrator’s business. As I’ve mentioned in earlier articles, look around in your local retailers – what are they selling that has images in the same general category as yours? Who manufactures it? A little homework can go a long, long way.

Additionally, there are numerous licensing shows held annually all over the world – the Licensing Expo in Las Vegas (my wife and I attended in 2010 – just missed the chance to meet Tony Curtis) and was blown away with the possibilities, as well as the pool of talent out there. There’s also Surtex, which I believe is in New York City and is huge among illustrators working in the licensing industry. That’s just two of the many out there, where manufacturers go to look for art to add to their product lines. Not all these shows are suitable for all types of art, so look into them and see where there might be a good fit.

T-shirts and coffee mugs featuring “Spectickles” characters.

Licensing is a complex, dynamic industry – use the resources available to learn more, such as Michael Woodward’s, “Art Licensing 101″ which provides probably the best overview of the important elements of art licensing, including rates, markets, contracts, and so much more. Additionally, check out Joan Beiriger’s Art Licensing Blog for an incredible amount of well-written, straight forward and exceedingly helpful advice on the art licensing business. Tara Reed also has an art licensing blog, art licensing courses, e-books, and a host of resources very helpful to artists.

Like any other vocation or industry, the more you know, the clearer your vision, and the harder you work, the farther you’ll go and the more success you’re likely to enjoy. This series of articles has hardly scratched the surface of what there is to know, and what needs to be known in order to be successful in licensing your cartoons and humorous art. But put in the time – you might just re-invent your cartooning business.

The big question for most cartoonists and artists looking to get involved in licensing is, ‘where can I offer my work?’. Here’s an exercise I’d recommend for any artist seeking commercial venues for their work. Go to your local gift store, specialty store, greeting card isle – anywhere houseware and giftware might be sold. You’ll see shelves filled with coffee mugs, novelty items, statuettes – both humorous and inspirational, greeting cards, calendars, office products, and so much more. Then have a look around your own home – look at some gifts you may have received, have a look at the wrapping paper it came in. It won’t take you long to see that an artist, somewhere, created the art that adorns all these things, and there is a fair chance that they’re recieving a royalty for every design that gets used.

Based on my experience, although my opinion may be at variance with others, a great market for cartoonists, and artists of many styles, to begin building royalty-based licensing income is the greeting card market. There are hundreds of companies who must produce new products every season to remain viable in a competitive market, and they rely heavily on freelance artists and cartoonists to supply the artwork – an option far less expensive than maintaining a full-time art staff. If your work is selected, you can usually expect an advance on royalties, frequently in the $150 per design range, along with a royalty rate of 4-7% of net sales paid quarterly. If you should end up with a successful design, that could result in thousands a year in royalties. Then consider what the possibilities could be if you end up with dozens of designs in the market – not at all uncommon if you are persistent and hold your work to the highest standards.

Once you’ve established yourself with a greeting card sale or two, you can choose to continue seeking opportunities for yourself, or consider the services of a licensing agent, whose primary function is to seek good matches in the marketplace for your style of art. For providing this service, licensing agents can take anywhere from 25 to 50% of the net royalties earned from your art. As with all things, you can negotiate terms that you’re comfortable with, and it makes sense to seek the advice of a legal professional with experience in licensing contracts.

If you opt to represent yourself, grab a pen and paper and head out to that nearby gift store. Who produces those calendars with images that are in the same artistic category as yours? Who produced those clever coffee mugs? What about those really funny aprons? And more greeting card publishers you may not have noticed before – write them all down, then head home to the laptop and look at the company websites. Are there links to their submission processes? Is there a contact email? With a little rudimentary homework, you could reveal information that can completely change your business and your financial prospects. And, by all means, refer to my previous article regarding contracts - DON’T ACCEPT ANYTHING YOU’RE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH!! You own the artwork – keep as many of the associated rights as you can – it’s your inventory. If you give it away, you’re back to square one while someone else gets paid for your work. Good luck and happy hunting!